


"Hello, Daughter"

by whisperingdusk



Series: Aera Auvryndar [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, Drow, Dungeon of the Mad Mage - Freeform, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Gen, drider, drow families suck, these sessions were A Lot so I wrote down what happened because Wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24256183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingdusk/pseuds/whisperingdusk
Summary: She had run from her past for so long. She had escaped the Underdark, coming to Waterdeep and living as a cleric of Lathander, erasing all trace of who she used to be.But she couldn't run away forever. When she came to Undermountain with her party, she learned that her family had moved there too. The time had come to face them once more.
Series: Aera Auvryndar [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750933
Kudos: 2





	"Hello, Daughter"

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting my writing! Did this back in November. This is based off 3 sessions from one of my Dungeons & Dragons campaigns. Aera Auvryndar is my character, a drider (formerly drow) cleric of Lathander who has been through A Lot. Gotta love drow families!

  
  


_That voice._

The elf’s ears perked up, in shock, in fear, in longing- she couldn’t tell which.

A voice she thought she would never hear again.

A voice she told herself she never wanted to hear again.

The voice of her mother, ringing out through the halls, inviting her daughter to return to her, commanding her forces not to harm her.

Warm. Kind. Inviting.

So different from her memories of her. It was all so confusing, and she didn’t know what to think.

The drow assassin continued to lead her through the tunnels, to take them to the throne room where her mother would be waiting. Her fear continued to build as she neared closer and closer.

Xarann wanted her help to kill the matron. He had told her that Aera was their key to taking down a tyrant, that it would be like she always wanted, but… was it?

Her hand hovered over the entrance, trembling. She had imagined that a confrontation would happen at some point, with her family continuing to come after her. But to invite her in? It had to be a trick, something had to be up, she knew her mother- though she wished so desperately for it to be the truth.

She took a breath and steadied herself, sending a prayer to Lathander to give her the strength for whatever came next.

The door opened.

She walked past the swarm of guards lining the hall, their red eyes glinting ominously in the darkness as she passed them. The tapping of her spider legs and the footsteps of her companions not far behind were the only sounds in the chamber. Then, as she came to a stop, silence. 

And then the voice, breaking that silence.

“ _Hello, my daughter. I see you have returned.”_

The young drow lifted her head to see a sight she had not seen in years- her mother. She looked the same as she did back then- the fancy robes, the symbols of Lolth, the face so similar to Aera's. But there was something new in the sight of her mother- a smile of happiness.

The matron rose up from her throne, stepping closer to her long-lost child and beginning to give words of welcome. 

Memories flashed through her, of times her mother had advanced less friendly. She stepped back on instinct, heart racing and certain that she was in danger. Her hand flew to her holy symbol, clutching it to steady her. She called upon her deity to protect her, and felt the warm presence of the angelic guardian of faith form behind her, its wings outstretched to protect the young drider. The surrounding drow hissed at the sudden bright light.

“ _There is no need for that, dear daughter. I said that you would not be harmed, didn’t I?”_ Her mother simply gave a laugh at her display and drew closer. She dismissed the majority of the guards with a wave, and the oppressive red glow of their stares receded, though some still remained.

“Why… why would you want me back? After what I did?”

“ _Because I have missed you so much… Ever since you left, I was in such distress that I had to adopt a new daughter of another house in an attempt to fill your place…”_ Her mother wore an expression of sadness, and gestured to the armored female drow standing beside her throne.

“ _Yes, I wished so badly for your return that I had to take in Zress here… but still, I wanted to see you again.”_ The smile on her mother’s face seemed genuine, and she felt herself soften a bit- but she still couldn’t trust her. 

"Then… why did you allow... _this_ , to happen? You must have seen what my siblings did, must have given the order…" She stepped out from her companions, fighting down the fear. She gestured to where normal legs once were, where they were now twisted into the body of a spider. She heard the sounds of disgust and revulsion from the remaining drow guards as she brought attention to her Lolth-given curse.

_"Oh, Aera... that was not me. Your siblings have always wanted to get ahead. All I asked of them was to bring you back to me. They did this without my knowledge. I was saddened, when I heard the news…"_ A frown crossed the matron's face as she considered the current state of her daughter.

Aera looked up in shock, in relief.

"It… really wasn't you?" She said hopefully. Her mother smiled at her.

_"It was not. I wish no harm to you, dear daughter. I only wanted you returned to me. It was not my order for this to happen to you."_

She stood still, just looking at her mother and processing. She didn’t know what to say. She had never prepared for this, never expected it this soon.

"...So what is it you want from us? Why have you brought me here? Was it just to say hello, or... is there something you want from us?" Aera questioned. 

_"We are having… a problem, with a creature on this level. The scorpion wizard Muiral."_

"We've met him."

_"I see… then this will benefit us both. My guards will lead you to him, and you will defeat him and bring me proof. Then, all of your crimes against the house will be forgiven."_

Aera smiled. She wasn't going to have to go against her beliefs- all she had to do was fix a common problem, and then… 

She was still conflicted on how she felt about her mother.

“You… you tortured me. You hated me for turning from Lolth. You can see clearly that I am no follower of her. Why would you allow me back in?” Aera questioned, not understanding.

“ _Because Aera, I am the one who shaped who you are.”_ The matron said with a caring smile. “ _I knew you were dissatisfied with life here. I saw the way you looked at that burning thing in the sky, your want for a new purpose. I let you leave, and I am the one that set you on your path. I sent the woman who led you to your new temple. I wanted you to be happy, and I knew that life in the drow city couldn't be what you needed,”_ her mother explained, her voice so full of warmth and caring that she had never heard from her before.

_"I have been guiding your way always, even from underground. I made you what you are, Aera Auvryndar.”_

She wasn’t sure what to think about these revelations. Her mother cared! Her heart leapt in joy- and then shrank in confusion and a feeling of powerlessness. If her mother was the one behind the most important choices of her life, when she thought she was independent, then… Did she have any control at all? Were her choices her own? Was everything a manipulation, was anything in that part of her life even real?

The doubts were chased away when she once again saw the warm smile of her mother that she had so longed to see throughout all of her childhood. Maybe she was wrong about it all? Her mother was standing here, happy to see her, welcoming her back in.

Was it really so bad?

" _Come here Aera, won't you give your mother a hug before you go?"_ Her mother stepped closer, now right in front of her, arms out wide, and it was everything she had wanted back then. She began to take a step forward, relieved and joyful, before more memories crossed through her mind.

_Her mother, the same smile now cruel and twisted. The snake headed whip tearing into her. The laughter of her siblings as they watched._

_Her mother, arms out in spellcasting, to punish her with Lolth's power for a prayer not perfect enough._

_Her mother, laughing in glee at the suffering of another house as her forces wiped them out. Commanding Aera to join in._

She stopped herself, taking two steps back, arms raised protectively in front of her.

"No! We- we aren't back there yet." She brought her arms around herself and backed up more, turning slightly away.

"Maybe someday but… not yet." She met her mother's gaze again, hopeful for the future. She saw the disappointment on the matrons face, as well as acceptance.

It was all so confusing, the cruel memories of the Vlonwelv she knew mixed with the inviting presence that stood before her now. She needed more time. She turned to leave, giving her mother a hopeful smile. There would be time to learn to trust her again. She was sure of it. The guards motioned for the companions to follow, leading them to a tunnel in the other end of the room.

_"One more thing. Xarann A'Daragon!"_ The matron's voice rang out through the throne hall as she clapped her hands.

The assassin turned to Aera in confusion. She looked to him, confused as well, not sure what her mother planned. The drow stepped away from them to face the matron.

_"Die."_

The sound rang through the room, sending a shiver through Aera as she could feel the dark energy woven into that simple word. Xarann looked to her fearfully- and then collapsed to the ground.

The world seemed to slow for a moment, as Aera tried to catch him- then she saw the glare of her mother and backed away. 

_"I recommend you bring no more assassins into my midst."_ The matron warned, back on her throne. Aera looked in horror to the dead drow on the ground, then back to her mother. Seeing her relaxed in her throne, ending the life of someone without any effort, she was reminded that Matron Mother Vlonwelv Auvryndar was just as powerful as she always had been.

-

Hours passed. The battle against Muiral the Misshapen had gone successfully, and the party was in high spirits. They decided to explore the rest of the level before returning to the hall, and Aera welcomed the break and the time to process before going back. 

They traveled through the hall of the shrines to each member of the drow pantheon. As she looked upon them, she was reminded of the darkness of the drow, of why she left. As she walked, she began to question what she was doing. She had left for a reason, those memories were clear to her- though they seemed farther away than before. 

She entered the shrine of Eilistraee, a welcome respite from the evil suffusing the other rooms. She gazed upon the statue of the one good drow goddess, and the beauty that she represented.

There was good within drow. She had to believe that. Aera was proof. Eilistraee was proof. Maybe her mother would be as well?

In the soft blue glow of the shrine, she reflected on her life before. She had clung to the thought that every part of it was bad, that her mother was the figure in her life that had caused her the problems and pains that forced her to leave, but… What if she was wrong?

She was so young, surely she could have mistaken some of it…

Whatever happened before, she could not deny the existence of the caring mother who smiled at her and only wanted good for her. She must have misremembered. The matron had only been looking out for her.

She smiled at the thought of the happy family she had always wished for. The fiery vengeance she had imagined before wasn’t what she wanted. It was this.

And even though she was opposed to the teachings of Lolth and the ways of the drow, if Vlonwelv was willing to accept her existence as she was, and was even the one who set her on the path to Lathander, then… the two of them could be allies, at least. She could return to her at times. She could have a happy family, like she’d always wished for- it could be _real._

“We’ve seen everything. Aera, are you ready to go?” One of her companions called out, taking her out of her thoughts.

“I’m not ready, but… we have to. Let’s do it," she answered, still apprehensive even through her hope. Something within her still felt unsettled. She gave a last look to the statue of Eilistraee, holding to the idea that good could come of drow.

They continued through the tunnel, back to the entrance of the Auvryndar throne hall. Aera once again held her hand above the door, intense emotions of hope and fear mixing in a confusing swirl that nearly made her lose her balance. She pressed her hand to the rough stone, closing her eyes and clutching her holy symbol in her other hand.

_Lathander. Please lend me your strength in whatever comes next._

_...I don’t trust her, yet. I’m still afraid of her. Things aren’t going to just go back to how they were, i’m not ready to forgive all that she has done, but… I hope that things can just be okay between us again. I just want peace._

_You gave me a chance, as a drow who had done so much wrong. I hope that I can have the strength to give my mother that same chance._

She opened her eyes, and took one last deep breath, steadying herself and calming the tide of conflicting emotions.

The door opened, and she once again stepped into the throne hall, standing before her mother.

_“Have you completed the task?”_ The matron asked, sitting relaxed on her throne as she approached.

“Yes,” Aera answered, presenting a piece of the scorpion carapace of the fallen wizard.

Vlonwelv leaned forward in interest, giving a motion to the swarm of guards that Aera now realized were lining the hall.

_“Are you being honest in your answer? Have you truly slain the abomination that plagues our halls?”_ As she said the words, Aera felt a wave of magical energy pass over her and her companions, cast from the legion of drow moving oppressively closer. She recognized it as one of her own spells, a zone of truth. Aera looked up in confusion, not understanding the meaning of this.

“Yes, we killed him. Muiral is dead.” The spell gave her no resistance- it was the truth. They all carried the evidence, as well as the wounds from the fight- they had not taken a rest before returning.

The neutral expression of her mother shifted into one much more familiar to Aera. Her heart glowed at the start of the truest smile she had ever seen from Vlonwelv, and her ears lifted in happiness, the young elf sure that a bright future had begun.

And then the smile twisted into something much less warm, much more suited to the expression of the matron mother of a drow house. She had seen that look many times. While overlooking a battle, standing beside her mother as a rival house was annihilated by her forces, she had given that same grin. Or as Vlonwelv tortured a prisoner, smiling as their will finally broke. 

Her mother looked truly delighted- in a way that always meant danger.

_“ Thank you for this great help. Your friends are free to leave, and their crimes against House Auvryndar are forgiven.”_

The hope fell from her face, the meaning of her mother’s words not unnoticed. Her friends were free- though Aera would not be.

“Ask her what’s on the next level!” Wish whispered excitedly into her ear, not having caught on. Her companions seemed happy and excited to leave, unaware of what would soon happen.

In that moment, she knew that she was not going to live much longer. She could at least try to help her friends, as the last thing she would do. She fought to keep her trembling ears from betraying her fear, and kept the panic out of her voice.

“What can we expect from the next level?” She asked, in a voice as level as she could make it.

The cruel grin deepened, and the matron gave a small laugh at the naïve hope of the young drider.

_“YOU can expect NOTHING. Your friends may leave, but your journey comes to an end in this room. You will die tonight!”_

The next moments came in a slow blur. She stood still in shock, unable to make herself move. She saw her mother’s delighted, fanged grin at the expression of absolute fear she knew she wore. She felt a soft hand grasp her wrist and felt Wish’s Ring of Invisibility slide from the tabaxi’s hand onto her own, her form disappearing from view.

The matron frowned a moment, then called forth a stranger- drawing Aera’s attention to the mysterious figure leaning behind the throne.

The stranger stepped out from the darkness, boots clicking loudly, and she saw the silhouette of an elf with a great plumed hat. As he sauntered into the faint light of the hall, his identity was revealed as he took off the hat for a dramatic bow.

Jarlaxle Baenre.

“We meet again, though under less ideal circumstances.” The famed mercenary said with a frown.

Wynter stepped forward, offering gems and gold to win him over- though the drow only gave a regretful smile.

“I am sorry, but what your friend’s mother is paying me to kill her is far more than you could ever give. Hand her over, and we will be done with it and back on our way.”

Her companions drew their weapons. Jarlaxle dipped his head in response, giving a faint smile.

“So this is the way it will be, then.” He drew a rapier with one arm, and moved the other behind his back.

“I will keep one arm behind my back, so the fight will be more fair. It was a pleasure knowing you all.” The dangerous mercenary advanced forward, to the place where Aera was last seen- where she still stood.

Wynter leapt forward to grab onto her shoulder, the sorcerer’s magic swirling around her as everything seemed to grow taller- or, herself smaller. He stepped in front of her reduced self, throwing his other arm forward as the surrounding shadows coalesced into the form of his Hound of Ill Omen. the shadowy hound leaped at Jarlaxle, blocking them from his attack.

She saw the summoned creature easily fought off by the skilled mercenary as he once again turned to the party with an amused grin- then everything blurred and shifted as Margun grabbed onto her arm from beside her, the two of them thrown through space, walls and stone hurtling past. The teleportation spell released them into the tunnels outside the hall, twenty feet in the air. She began to fall, the strength of the warlock’s flying boots not enough to hold them both, before reaching out to a stalactite with one of her eight spider legs and pulling herself up to it, finally pulled out of her daze. She was safe from falling, but there was not a moment to rest- she looked down to see a swarm of drow and troglodytes waiting in ambush.

She loosed a fireball into the crowd, the flames turning most of them to ash on the spot. As the energy of the spell left her, she felt the cover of invisibility pulled from her as well, the drider now revealed to the remaining foes. 

“You can take the rest of these. Stay here and wait for us.” The warlock said to her. His features changed to that of a drow as he floated back down to the ground, the spell of disguise blending him in with the rest of the Auvryndar soldiers as he went back through the door to the throne hall. 

“She went the other way!” She heard him call over the sounds of battle coming from the room outside.

She felt the bolts of crossbows hit her in the back, and she spun around with fangs bared to face the remaining drow of the tunnel, fire in her hands.

The drow didn’t last long.

She continued to run along the ceiling as she heard the pounding of the guards at the door, and the sounds of the desperate battle outside. She pulled herself across the ceiling as fast as her spider legs could take her, nearly falling as she felt the force of her mother’s magic break into her mind. 

_“Come back here, my foolish daughter, and let this all be over. Return to me willingly and your friends will be spared,”_ The telepathic message commanded. She could hear the screams of pain from the next room and knew that they stood no chance against the Matron Mother of House Auvryndar.

She ducked behind another stalactite as she heard the door violently thrown open, an armored figure charging into the tunnel. She clutched onto the stalactite, attempting to still her frantic breathing. She cast her spiritual weapon, the form of a golden morningstar materializing in the corner.

"Come out, _little sister_!" She heard her adoptive sister call, the sound of the destruction of stone filling the tunnel as she crashed into her surroundings in search of the drider. Aera motioned the swing of a weapon with her arm, and the summoned weapon lifted, striking into the drow warrior. She heard an angry roar, and knew that it had hit.

With a smile at her success, she cautiously peeked over the edge of the stalactite-

To see the eyes of Jarlaxle meet her own, a grin spreading across his face.

She spun the ring, the cover of invisibility once again washing over her as she leapt away and rolled to the ground, looking up in horror to see the place she had been just a moment ago completely obliterated.

Her adopted sister rushed forward in delight to finish the job- then growled in frustration as she realized that Aera was not there.

From behind the two drow, a tall third figure rose into her view, one she recognized well. A twisting, shifting mass of yellow ooze, with a singular glowing red eye- a yochlol, a demon handmaiden of Lolth.

The horrifying abomination reached out a shifting arm, and the surrounding stone became lit in the purple flames of faerie fire. The illusory flames spread out from the monster, traveling over every stone on their path- twisting around Aera’s form, revealing a shimmering outline of the drider as they passed.

She hid herself behind the stalagmites, out of sight before the two drow could see her flickering form- though the glowing, hateful red stare of the yochlol was fixed directly on her.

It leapt to her, its tendrils slamming into her and its poison seeping into her skin, through the wounds not yet healed from her fight with the half-scorpion Muiral. The two drow turned to her hiding place at the sound of her screams, Zress charging forward once more.

Aera quickly reached out an arm to call her spiritual weapon from the other end of the room and pulled toward herself, sending it hurtling into the yochlol. The yochlol’s concentration on the spell broke, the flames fizzling out and her location obscured once more. She pulled herself away from the oozing creature as she pushed past the pain and leapt to the wall, coming to a stop overlooking the three enemies from beside the exit further into the tunnel.

“Where is she?!” Zress demanded to Jarlaxle.

“I don’t _know,_ but she can’t evade us for long.” He snapped, then turned to address all of the tunnel.

“Oh child of Auvryndar, I have not even taken my hand from behind my back yet. Reveal yourself and give up your life, and this can all end without any more violence,” The drow mercenary commanded. Aera heard the crackling sounds and felt the dark energy of her mother’s spellcasting from the next room, along with a scream cut short and the sound of something hitting the ground.

She could give herself up. She could save them from death at the hand of the matron. It could stop. Her hand hovered over the ring as she prepared to take it off.

Then she remembered who they were dealing with. These were drow, beings that delighted in the torment of others. They wouldn’t be free. Her sacrifice wouldn’t mean anything. They needed her to fight back.

“No!” She yelled from above the ceiling on the staircase, calling her spiritual weapon back to her and throwing it from that location to hit the yochlol once more, before leaping back to the wall. The yochlol howled in glee and charged down the staircase, its shifting arms slamming against the walls and propelling it forward as it continued forth and out of sight, chasing toward where it believed Aera to be.

As she huddled pressed against the wall, she felt warmth spread over her as her amulet glowed, letting her know that the eye of her deity was upon her. For a moment, she saw the sun come to its peak over the Spires of the Morning, and felt the comforting warmth of the sun wash over her- a feeling she had not experienced in the half a year that she had been underground.

“ _As long as the sun continues to rise, I am with you. Let my power protect you as the sun reaches its peak.”_ The unmistakable voice of Lathander spoke within her, only for her to hear.

The determined fire returned to her eyes as she felt the amulet thrumming with power, its steadying rhythm giving her hope. She launched herself across the wall. She would make it out. She would live!

The power swirled within her, driving her forward. She turned to the two confused drow, a confident grin on her face. In the moment, she had no other thoughts but survival. She reached into the well of fire within the amulet, the magic running throughout her and swirling around her hands. She threw her arms in their direction, releasing an arc of flame that exploded into a magnificent fireball at their feet, feeling the sun shining on her as the flames burned at double the usual intensity of the spell. She gave a laugh of relief, confident in her escape-

As the cover of invisibility once more melted off.

As Jarlaxle Baenre strolled out of the fire, completely unharmed.

“There you are, little spider,” the confident drow said as he made his approach. Zress appeared out of the fire beside him, injured and burned but still determined.

The slow walk turned to a dash as the mercenary leapt forward, throwing his rapier across the distance before she could run. She gasped in pain as it pierced into her. Unable to keep hold of the wall, some of her legs lost their grip as she began to slide downwards. She scrambled in futility to stay where she was, but it would get her nowhere.

The drow grasped the rapier, yanking it out and diving at her for another stab, pulling her to the ground. The drider lay crumpled against the floor.

“I am truly sorry that it came to this.” The drow said, his blood-red eyes looking regretfully to her the only thing she could clearly see as everything grew blurry. She struggled to keep conscious, as the edges of her vision grew darker and darker.

She faintly heard Jarlaxle calling Zress forward to finish the job, and saw the blurry form of her adopted sister rush forward in glee, lifting her great weapon.

She was dimly aware of Jarlaxle’s rapier coming forward for one final stab, and her eyes began to close, accepting her fate.

The blow didn’t come.

Her eyes opened slightly, then widened as she saw Jarlaxle standing in shock, two scimitars through his chest. He fell to the ground as they retracted, revealing behind him a figure with glowing purple eyes. She heard the sound of a roar behind him, as Zress was tackled to the ground by a massive black creature. Her vision slowly began to return to her, revealing the identity of her rescuer.

Her eyes widened further in recognition of who stood before her- as any drow raised in Menzoberranzan would.

Drizzt Do’Urden, the renegade drow- the one who’s existence had given her hope of a life outside the city, as a younger Aera had made her first escape from the Underdark so many years ago.

The legendary ranger reached out a hand to the young drider, his panther coming to his side as he smiled warmly to her.

She stared in shock for a moment longer, then reached to him as he pulled her to her feet, her shaky spider legs barely supporting her.

“Thank you, I- i’ve heard so many stories of you,” she said in wonder. He smiled at her and nodded.

“I have heard stories of you as well, Wrath of the Morning.” The title hung in her mind, one she had never heard before, but one she accepted.

The yochlol re-entered the tunnel, giving a hateful stare to the two traitors to Lolth.

_“The one who summoned me is dead. I have no more business here,”_ The demon announced, its unsettling, whispering voice sweeping through the tunnel as its form dissipated into nothingness.

The realization took a few moments to hit, the young drider still disoriented.

“My mother was a matron as well, and though she was not a good person, I, too, was saddened by the news of her death… Though she was undoubtedly evil, I never wished her fate upon her,” the ranger said, consoling her with calming words after seeing her expression of pain. He guided her to the door, the drider still lost within herself.

Drizzt led her through the hallway, the two of them stepping over the countless bodies of the slain drow guards. She moved without conscious thought, still too deep in shock. It was all she could do just to keep herself awake through the injuries, and the cold of betrayal and hurt gripped at her heart, threatening to freeze her entirely.

Her vision began to clear more as Drizzt guided her back through the door, once again entering the Hall of Auvryndar. She looked to the hazy figures of her companions, standing beaten in the hall. She gave them a weak smile of relief, glad to see that they were all still alive.

Her vision grew sharper as she saw what else lay in the room.

Aera looked to the lifeless body of her mother, fallen against the wall in front of her. The expression of hate and anger that usually twisted her face was gone- for once, she looked at peace.

Drizzt gave her a sorrowful look, placing a hand on her shoulder to comfort the grieving drider.

Aera felt pain begin to twist her face as feeling returned to her. She clung to the consoling touch of her hero, focusing on his presence to keep her steady through the torrent of emotions now racing through her mind, no longer held behind the wall of survival.

The hand left, as he turned to leave.

“I must return to the surface. It was good to finally meet you all. I feel as if I truly know you all, from the stories of the children above and from the tales of your actions here.” He grabbed Jarlaxle’s arm and pulled him forward.

“And I will take this one back to the surface as well. He will not bother you again,” he said with a glare to the mercenary. Jarlaxle sneered at him, but followed.

“Thank you, so much,” Aera said to him, stepping forward with admiration and thanks shining in her eyes through her tears. He nodded, then looked to address them all.

“Safe travels to you all. I hope I can hear more of your journeys here. I will remember you all for centuries to come.” He turned to the panther waiting patiently by the entrance, and waved the magnificent creature over.

“To me, Guenhwyvar,” he called, and the loyal panther bounded to him, her form becoming indistinct and misty as she neared- then turning to smoke as she leapt to his waiting hand, the mist coalescing into a much smaller onyx figurine of the same creature.

Then he looked to Aera, and held it out to her.

“To borrow only,” he told her as her eyes widened. “She is my dearest friend, and I cannot bear to have her away from my side for long. She is a loyal companion, and will protect you until I return for her.”

She held the onyx figurine in her hands, looking at him in gratitude. The heard the telepathic purr of the panther as the connection between them formed.

Drizzt gave a last farewell smile, as her hero made his exit and the stone door closed behind him.

The companions stood alone again. The ember of happiness within her dimmed again as she was reminded of the situation.

“...Who did it?” She asked, her voice quiet and detached. The question was answered for her as she saw that the shoulder and right eye of the matron had been blown through, and she saw in Wish’s hand the still-smoking arcane rifle.

“I did. It’s what we had to do.” The tabaxi said after a few moments, when no one else spoke up. Aera gave a small acknowledging nod in response. 

Aera never wished her dead. Even when she left home for the first time, even when she was at her angriest with the matron, this was never what she wanted.

She began to set up the candles and incense necessary for a spell. Her friends kept their distance, watching as their young companion went through the motions of her task, her mind lost elsewhere.

She set the last candle in place, rising back up on eight trembling legs. She stepped back, and her friends gathered around.

She gave one last, shaky breath, and began.

“...The sun has set on Matron Vlonwelv Auvryndar. Though it may have never risen for her in the first place.” She fought to keep her ears from drooping, or the tears from forming.

“I… don’t expect you all to understand. My mother did horrible things. To me, to you, to everyone… But, even though I don’t understand why… She was the one that set me on this path. I am me, because of her.” She gave a sigh, and paused before continuing.

“Maybe she wanted someone to escape the darkness, when she could not herself.” A small, wishful smile flickered across her face, the drider still clinging to the remaining sliver of her foolish hope.

“I believe, deep down, there had to be… _some_ spark of good in her. There’s something good in everyone, if you look. If… If I had just had more time, maybe it could have shone.”

“I know that by her actions, she deserves to end up where her spirit now lies… but, I hope that, perhaps… Lathander may have mercy on her.” She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robes.

“May Lathander have mercy on us all.”

Her hand drifted to the holy symbol hanging from her neck, and she closed her eyes, sending her wishes to her deity.

Then, she called upon the powers of her divine connection, feeling the magic pool within the sun-shaped amulet. She brought her hand back away, golden light pulled along with it. She approached the body, placing her hands upon it, the glow draining away and transferring between them.

The body shuddered- the light flickering, as if being rejected- then spread throughout as a small semblance of life returned, the matron’s chest swelling with air.

The drider instinctively took a step backwards, then forced herself to stand once again before her mother. She gathered her thoughts one last time, and felt a tinge of magic to her words as she spoke.

“...Was it all a lie, pretending to care?”

The stale underground air crackled around her, electrified with dark energy that sent a cold shiver down her spine. The responding whisper curled around her ears and into her mind.

**_“Yesssss…”_ **

The calm facade Aera had tried to hold cracked under the weight of that one word.

**_“A ruse… to let your guard down, and gain your trusssst…”_ **

It was as Aera thought, and always knew subconsciously, though she had chosen not to believe it. Even during the fight, she had still clung to something, some explanation for her mother's actions- but now there was no denying it, hearing it from the matron herself.

She stilled herself, fought off the despair threatening to cripple her for a while longer. Anger was something she could focus on.

“Were you ever proud of me?” She asked, covering up the hurt with a voice of icy cold instead.

**_“Yessss….”_ **The corpse spoke, her one remaining eye now opened, taking shuddering breaths in mockery of life. The part of her deep within that had always yearned for the approval and praise of her mother leapt forward, her ears swiveling forward in hope and an expression of longing on her face, before she once again buried such thoughts in ice. 

**_“As a young drow-ling… You exhibited such strong piety and reverence to Lolth.”_ **

Her ears drew back in disgust at the memory of who she once was, back in the City of Spiders.

Another question still burned in her mind, the cause of so much confusion, the one thing that left her mother with some small chance of redemption.

“Why did you guide me to Lathander, then? ...Was that you?”

**_“I did NOT.”_ **The matron spat with utter disgust at the concept.

**_“It was a ruse. A clever ruse.”_ **Though the lifeless face showed no expression, she could hear the cruel grin in the spirit’s voice.

“Why did you want me dead?” The young drider asked, voice breaking despite her efforts to keep her reactions hidden from her mother. She knew she would delight in her pain- she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

**_“Because, you BETRAYED me, House Auvryndar, the great race of Drow, and the Queen of Spiders!”_ **Aera flinched at the raised volume Vlonwelv now spoke in, then forced herself to relax. She had one, final question remaining before the spell would lose its hold on her spirit, releasing her back to the demonweb pits where she belonged.

“Where is my sister Melith?” She asked, voice flat and cold once again. Her mother wouldn’t get any more enjoyment out of her suffering. 

“She’s the last one left. Where is she?”

**_“She… was coming this way, from level four. To… rejoin with me, and rejoice in your destruction! ...But apparently, she will not.”_ **And with the last word spoken, the small spark deep within her remaining eye disappeared once more. The body of Vlonwelv Auvryndar once more lay lifeless.

The ice now felt as if it were climbing through her veins, threatening to stop her heart. She fought to remain conscious, to fight through the cold of death threatening to take her. The wounds, both physically and emotionally, were too much for the young drow.

She needed fire.

The hurt showed on her face for a few moments, before being replaced with fury as she lifted her hand. She felt the warmth swirl within the amulet, then through her arm and out through her outstretched hands in a continuous, fiery column, the sound of the fire loud enough to cover her anguished screams. The blaze swirled around the body of Vlonwelv, climbing higher and higher into the cavern. The stream of flame began to slow as her energy faded, then flickered to a stop. She breathed heavily, exhausted. She wiped her angry tears from her face as she turned, walking away from the still-burning pillar of flame, not bothering to look at the remains. She blew out the candles with a furious motion of her cloak, the only light in the hall now being the fading blaze.

Wish pulled her aside, reaching into her cape to reveal a spider-shaped key.

“I found this on her body, it opens the doors back there. Do you want to look?” The tabaxi asked, pointing to the chambers behind the matron’s throne. The drider nodded. Determination flared in her eyes, feeling the fire still within her, waiting to be drawn out.

“Let’s go,” she said, sacred flame beginning to curl around her fingers once more.

The party stood in front of the door as the tabaxi rogue turned the key. She heard the sound of movement from inside, and the flame in her hands grew brighter in preparation for a fight.

The door swung open to reveal two male drow servants kneeling before them on the floor, staring at the ground. She released her hold on the spell, the fire fizzling out as she realized that they would be no threat.

“Welcome back, my mistress! We heard the fighting, we were worried about you but, of course you won. We are so happy you are back.” The two drow talked over each other frantically, though their eyes never raised.

“I am _not_ your mistress,” Aera declared in disgust. They cautiously began to raise their eyes, looking as though it went against everything they were taught to do- and she knew that was the truth. They finally met her gaze as they saw who she was, looking at her in confusion as they rose to their feet.

“Just stay out of our way,” Albert said as he began to make their way into the matron’s chamber with Aera and Wish.

“We do not take orders from a _human male,_ ” one of them scoffed as they moved to block their path.

“Then take orders from me,” Aera commanded. “Stand far against the wall and do not interfere.” The servants immediately moved to follow her order, and a chill ran through her at their reaction, at her similarity to the priestesses of her homeland.

“These are Matron Vlonwelv’s chambers, I am sure she would not appreciate others in here without her permission… where is she?” One of them dared to ask.

“She’s dead,” Margun answered. The drow just looked confused, staring blankly at them all for a few moments.

“But… what will we do now?” The other said quietly, an empty look in his eyes. They both looked as if all of their purpose in life was gone, as if their only role in life was to serve the matron- which knowing her mother, it was. Aera gave them a sad look, and then walked forward to catch up to her friends as they investigated the belongings of Vlonwelv.

It looked so similar to the place she had known in her childhood in Menzoberranzan. The same spider-shaped bed, the decorations of red, purple, and black, the fancy goth outfits, the books she often used to read- It was all here, moved to her family’s new home in Undermountain. Her hands traced across the soft fabrics decorating the room, closing her eyes as the memories came pouring in. Of the lullabies her mother had sung to her as a child, the reassurances that she would be great and powerful, that Lolth was watching over them both.

Of her manipulations, meant to shape her into nothing more than the perfect weapon. Her hand curled into a fist.

“Do you want to burn it?” Wish asked her. She opened her eyes to see the orange tabaxi collecting Vlonwelv’s belongings into her Bag of Holding, the catlike rogue’s ears perking up as she noticed the stash of her mother’s fancy wines. She turned to Aera as she took the last one, closing the bag and putting it back under her cape. “There’s nothing else valuable in here. You can burn it, if it will make you feel better.” She considered the question.

“...It will. It will make me feel better, for a moment… But then she’ll really be gone,” she sighed. Wish put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Whatever you decide, it’s up to you,” the tabaxi told her as she and the others began to leave.

The drider suddenly felt tiny without her friends by her side. Memories of comfort mixed with memories of pain, her decades spent as a priestess in Menzoberranzan returning to her after so long of pushing them away.

She couldn’t leave herself anything to go back to. 

She took one last, long look at her surroundings, committing them to memory.

Then it all went up in flames.

She stared into the growing inferno, watching the last remnants of her early life crumble to ash as she separated herself completely from the drow she used to be.

She eventually stepped away from the blaze, new conviction flaring like the surrounding fire in her golden eyes.

She would not be manipulated again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! These were some of my favorite D&D sessions ever, so I wanted to share and hopefully let some other people experience some of this story.
> 
> Here's some art I've done based on this:  
> [Reunion with the Matron](https://www.instagram.com/p/B22NZ7aJG2V/)  
> [Speak with Dead](https://www.instagram.com/p/B34UjyulZCn/)


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